


Soft Snow

by cynicaljapanophile



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, Fluff, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:40:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21589411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynicaljapanophile/pseuds/cynicaljapanophile
Summary: [whitley schnee x reader]he always looked so cold and rigid but whenever he talked to her he was soft and warm.[takes place before volume one]
Relationships: Whitley Schnee/Reader
Kudos: 16





	Soft Snow

He always looked so cold.  
From his snow white hair to his perfect posture to his cold and plastic smile.  
It was widely accepted by all the servants that served the Schnee family that he's as cold as ice just like his father but to me he looked like he was shivering from the freezing cold.  
He looked like a boy wishing to be warm.

* * *

We sat in the garden that was usually occupied by his mother. I remember how surprised I was to see the youngest Schnee in the garden. It wasn't just rare to see him not by his father's side but it was hard to believe that he even stepped one foot into the garden that was almost always occupied by his mother.  
I looked back at the young Schnee to see if it was actually him, still not able to believe he was actually there. It was indeed him.  
After a few minutes of staring at his soft and delicate features I decided to speak up.  
"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice barely louded than a whisper.  
I watched as his figure became stiff and his breath temporarily halted.  
"You don't need t-"  
"I've been okay," he said, kicking the gravel at his feet.  
"Father has just been more..." he paused for a few seconds, playing with the sleeve of his shirt.  
I looked down at the sleeve he was playing with and my eyes widened as my [e/c] orbs spotted the purple hand print that painted his wrist.  
"...Irritable since Weiss left for Beacon," he whispered out, pulling down his sleeve to hide the mark from sight.  
"How have you been?" he asked, his voice regaining that superficial cheerful tone that he always spoke with, "The head maid hasn't been giving you anymore trouble, has she?"  
"N-No!" I cursed in my head at my stuttering as his eyes narrowed slightly.  
"R-Really nothing's happened," I said, grabbing my right hand. The bruise on my palm was gone but I could still feel the stinging that was left by the older maid. I thought back to the day when the older maid was confronted by the white haired boy and how furious she was when he was out of earshot. I refused to turn my head to look at Whitley, who was already aware of the lie that I told him.  
"[Y/N]."  
I hesitantly turned to him and felt myself cower under his gaze.  
"Look you can-"  
"Let's run away."  
Whitley stared at me, his blue eyes wide in shock unable to say anything.  
I nervously gulped as I watched him slowly process what I had suggested.  
I took a deep breath and spoke up once again with a new suggestion.  
"Fine, let's not run away," I rubbed the back of my head, realizing that running away together wouldn't be the best idea considering who Whitley is.  
"But promise me this," I stuck my pinky finger out towards him and looked at him sternly, "Promise to talk to me and tell me the truth whenever something happens with your father, okay?"  
Whitley took a nervous gulp and pulled on the collar of his shirt out of anxiousness.  
"Fine," he said, returning the stern look, "But, you have to promise me that whenever something happens you'll tell me the truth and not cover it up."  
I gave a curt nod and intertwined our fingers.  
I felt my cheeks heat up.  
I beamed in joy as I watched Whitley flash me a warm smile.


End file.
